Contributor Posts

Where do I go,
What can I do,
With all the love,
I have for you?

I found a support group, you see,
I thought it might be good for me.
Boy was I wrong, it was much worse.
For me, it brought out all the misery
Of loss that Caregivers, face every day.
I know, I felt so lucky to be
With my wife who has many issues
Of losing most of her memory,
Not one who yells or swears at me
But the gentle soul, who still loves me.

Alive I have been, for many a year.
The waking up part is not a fear.
Some aching, creaking parts of body mine
Have started and continue the aging decline.

Forsake me not, she said to me.
Life will be what it will be.
Tell me not to change my way,
For now I live, just for today.
The morrow will be coming soon
And the night brings, the darkened Moon.
Fear of life, I keep hidden inside,
Searching for peace, for my life's ride.

The tip of a plant
Pushes through the snow,
Telling of growth below.
A warming Sun can't
Hurt, that I know.
As the weather warms,
There are seeds to sow
For new plants to grow.

The moonlight with off colored white,
Brightens the layer of ground covered snow.
White wisps of clouds, interrupt the light
That are reflected in the shadows below.
It is truly a most marvelous sight.
A look from my window, with tired eye
realizing that sunrise is nigh.
The Moon slowly moves from my sight
as the World abounds with false daylight.
Little to say, on this grayest of days,
Except the approach of Spring does amaze.

It is what it is and yet
I tell you I will never forget,
The Call of the Wild, in my veins
As sure as I recall, Seattle rains.

The life we led is with us still,
Encumbered by much angst and ill will.
What do we do, at this point in time,
Is pour a glass of red or white wine.

Some say it is a talent that I've got.
Others might say my talent is naught.
Full of flaws, that are open to see
Except the love for my family.

Pictures, pictures, everywhere.
I don't know the names
And I don't care.
The pictures are old and unique.
I'm sure that they are an antique.
I don't know who they are
Or if they're related to me.
I just know that there are old as can be.

Hearing the noisy clacking of a beak,
I look up at the Fir tree,
Into the branches, then I see
A big Crow, looking down at me.
Feed me, he caws, from up above.
I need to eat and I love
Sitting in the trees, making my sound,
Seeing you put peanuts onto the ground.

In the daylight hours,
I wait for you.
In the midnight hour
I will be with you,
For life's sweet and sour
Moments are drawing near,
As I watch you
Slowly disappear.